For It Was Your Hand That Pushed Me Over The Edge
by HashtagMC
Summary: "Even now, he couldn't say, wouldn't speak the two words, and Nico didn't think he'd ever been that close to a breakdown in his entire life. She couldn't possibly mean—" Rated M for panic attacks, depression and homophobia.


**WARNING:** The following story deals with the issue of rejection from your own family, so if that might trigger you, I advise you to be prepared or not read this. Also, beware, there will be self-harm and suicidal thoughts in the next chapter. Don't say I didn't warn you. I did.

 **A/N:** I started writing this in February, and I'm still not done. Writer's block, coupled with depression, is a b****, and I barely manage to write more than one or two sentences in a bad week. So, bear with me, and apologies for keeping you waiting. However, I'm having a good day right now and I have the story fleshed out in my mind already, so there should be a second chapter soon. Keep in mind, writing a review is so much more to me than just favourites, so if you can take the time to write a few words, I'd be very happy!

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Nico didn't think he'd ever been that close to a breakdown in his entire life. He'd thought he knew anxiety – the kind that had your heart rate rival machine gun fire, like it was gonna break your ribs in half with the sheer force of its beat. He'd thought he'd had panic attacks before – those moments when it had seemed as though there was no escape, no option but to pray for a quick death.

Nico had thought he'd known what it meant to face demise. He'd stood up and looked hordes of monsters straight in the eye, he'd challenged his father and he'd challenged the oldest evils of all, ready to die.

As it turned out, that had been the easy part. Now, Nico thought as he struggled to open his trademark pilot jacket with trembling hands, _now_ he knew fear.

In battle, there was no turning back. No way to run and hide. In battle, it was all about turning off thinking, and fighting to keep alive those he cared about.

Nico di Angelo hadn't been this afraid ever since he'd been a ten-year-old, hiding behind his sister from a gruesome monster that looked like it'd come right out of a nightmare.

For the first time in his life, Nico di Angelo was scared to death.

Acid pooled in his stomach, cold and pulsating, as though it was trying to dissolve his innards one by one. Sweat glistened on his forehead. Harsh, irregular breath was pumped out of his lungs, muscles trembling, a body kept alive by the erratic and racing beat of a heart too cowardly to put a decision made into practice.

Slowly, Nico raised a shaking hand to knock on the door in front of him. For a moment, his hand remained immobile, before he brought it towards the wood.

KNOCK

 _Hazel Levesque, Praetor_ the sign next to the door read.

KNOCK

 _Frank Zhang, Praetor_ was the second name engraved into the golden plate.

KNOCK

This, he knew, was the last opportunity to change his mind. There was a shadow nearby, just two steps and he would be gone. Already he could hear the steps inside—

"Nico!" The unmistakable voice of his sister turned concerned when she noticed his disheveled appearance and ragged breath. "Nico, what has happened? Are you hurt?"

Nico managed to shake his head. The twisted feeling in his guts had just worsened, and he was sure he was gonna throw up.  
"Talk", he had to force the words through his heaved breathing, "can we – I need to – we must talk."

Nico barely paid attention while Hazel led him into the house. Somewhere on the way, he must have shed his jacket, because when Hazel sat down next to him on a couch, his arms were bare.

Slowly, he tried to bring his breathing under control. Focusing on the rhythm of the breaths coming from Hazel's chest, on the warmth of her embrace, Nico managed to regain control over his trembling body.

"Nico, what's wrong", Hazel asked. "Did someone hurt you? Has something happened?"

Again Nico shook his head.

"Hazel, I—", he forced out, before tears stung in his eyes again, blurring his vision and threatening to take over again. "Nico", Hazel cupped his face, worry evident in her golden eyes, "talk to me. You know you can tell me everything that bothers you."

"I—", he couldn't do this, Nico thought, he couldn't say those words that had haunted his mind since he'd been a kid.

"I… Hazel, I l-like… I like boys."

 _I'm gay._ Even now, he couldn't say, _wouldn't_ speak the two words. But he'd said it. The matter was no longer in his hands. Now, he was only waiting for the impact.

Hazel hands flew up to cover her mouth as understanding dawned on her face, shock turning her features to stone.

"You – you are…?"

Nico nodded apprehensively.

"Oh, Nico, I'm so sorry for you!" Hazel exclaimed with a pitying look. Seconds later, Nico found himself embraced by his sister's arms. "Haven't you found a solution yet?"

"What?—"

"They _can_ do something about this, right? Don't the healers at Camp Half-Blood know something that could help?"

"Hazel—"

"Or have you talked to our father about this? You have done so much for the gods, I'm sure they can fix you and correct this?"

Nico stiffened and wound himself out of his sister's embrace. He couldn't believe what he'd just heard. She couldn't possibly mean—

"Nico?" Hazel's voice cut through the panic building up once more in Nico's mind. "Nico, don't worry. We'll work something out."

"No", Nico stuttered, "you – you don't understand." Heart beating frantically, he pushed his sister away. "I'm – I'm fine like – like this!" Tears stung in his eyes again. "I – I came here because I thought you'd _understand_ , not for you to – to tell me I'm a freak!"

The worried expression slid off Hazel's face, and was subsequently replaced with a look of horror as the meaning of Nico's words slowly sank in. Seeing his sister's rejection this clearly only served to increase Nico's desire to run away and never come back.

"Nico! You can't mean – that's disgusting!"

Breathing quickening, Nico jumped up. His tears were now freely flowing, the salty liquid running down his face and staining his shirt. Unable to speak another word, he turned on his heel and made for the door, charging past a surprised Frank and out the door, ignoring Hazel's calls to come back. He barely felt the fresh air hitting his face when he left the house. His only thought was to find a spot to travel, somewhere, _anywhere_ , and get away from the scene.

As soon as he stumbled into the shadows, he felt the familiar tug in his guts, the darkness embracing his very being and pulling him away. Too far gone to even think about a destination, his instincts took over, bringing as much distance as possible between him and New Rome, and directing his powers to take him to the only place that felt something like home.

With a thud, he hit the floor of the cabin, sobs shaking his still thin frame, curled together in an embryonic pose, and utterly destroyed.


End file.
